The newspapers had written about it, and Nora had read what they had to say. Charlie had talked about it, and she'd listened to every word. But to sell more of them, newspapers hyped whatever they wrote about, and little boys—even thoughtful little boys like her Charlie—are easily impressed. Their suite was nothing you wouldn't expect to find in any run of the mill five-star hotel, and the parts of the Factory Nora had seen to this point did nothing to give away the wonders she hadn't. Stacked together, these facts and perceptions meant Nora wasn't prepared in the slightest for what she was seeing now.
Standing on a curving ledge that looked across it, Nora stood almost one hundred feet above it, glimpsing a place more magical than any dump could dare to promise by its opposition. The sight before her was as splendid a rendering of a garden in Paradise as her mind could hope to imagine. Bedazzled, she almost forgot to breathe.
But this was only a glimpse. There was further Nora could go. She could walk out to the edge of the curving platform and see it all. The growing river they'd followed from its beginning fell to her right in a thirty meter drop—the lately famous Chocolate Fall—but there was a knee-high wall ahead of her.
Nora looked back. Having ushered her through, Willy hadn't followed. He was standing next to the door, inscrutable with the brim of his top hat shadowing his face. The corner of Nora's mouth turned up. Useful hat, that. With the sounds of the fall, as far apart as they were, it was futile to think she'd be heard. Pointing to herself, Nora made a wavy motion with her fingers towards the edge.
With a tiny nod and the barest of smiles, Willy made the same little wavy motion back.
Receiving the go-ahead, with measured steps, Nora advanced to the edge of the platform, her desire to stretch out the suspense setting the pace. She'd only see this sight for the first time once, and she wanted to remember it forever.
The vista was more than Nora had hoped for. Devouring it with hungry eyes, she surveyed every detail, discovering the enormous room held secrets she still couldn't see, even from this commanding vantage. With a soft smile and glistening eyes, Nora counted the loveliness before her as welcome nourishment for her soul— the fullness of a future she could snuggle into, and the discarding of a past she could shrug away, like the withered specter this move had made it. And just like that—surprising herself not one bit—Nora fell in love: with a room.
The past in the present was petrifying. Freddie Ficklegruber had done his best to keep that past where it belonged, behind him, but he couldn't be sure. He lowered the phone as if it were nitro-glycerin.
Yes, the room was lovely, and Nora was smitten. Dropping to her knees, she put her hands on top of the little wall, leaning over as far as she dared, until she laughed aloud. Willy 'Who-knew-how-he'd-surprise-you-next?' Wonka sure knew how to make the most of decorating a room.
The chocolate gathered beneath her in a great pool, with the river continuing out of it, meandering through the room. On the far side, beyond the fall, pipes of different sizes reached into the pool and sucked up the chocolate, taking it, Nora laughed again, to Willy knew where. In the pool's far corner, a giant pink seahorse reared its head from the surface, only to turn, on second glance, into the bow of an open boat, tethered to the shore. Oompa-Loompas in red jumpsuits—scores of them—worked among the trees and flowers.
Nora took it all in and began again. This time, she noticed an Oompa-Loompa on the shore across from her, richly dressed in black trousers and a dark-brown Nehru jacket, staring up at them. She turned to find Willy and ask who that might be, only to find Willy gone. Alarmed, her eyes searched the platform, and finding him, her alarm only grew.
Down on his left knee, Willy crouched by the river's edge, his right foot and hand anchoring his flat-on-the-floor walking stick, while his left hand floated inches above the surface of the chocolaty flow, making diving motions that mimicked a dolphin leaping in and out of the chocolate. Sometimes he would stop, and curl his fingers, and hold the heel of his hand stationary, above and against the chocolate current. But he never touched it. If he had, the rooster tail of the wake he caused would have drenched him, and everything near him, but good!
The edge of that thick, rushing river, a few feet from a towering drop, was no place for anyone. If Willy were Charlie, Nora would be plucking him back by his coat, and the scolding she'd give him would make him wish he'd been grounded for a month, instead. Nora looked back at the Oompa-Loompa to find him staring at her. He must agree, and Nora took a step toward Willy and the river.
Ha! From the corner of his eye, Willy caught the movement and pushed backward, leaping to his feet.
"Doesn't that look fun? Wanna try? But ya can't touch it!"
Willy didn't know why he was saying these things, he knew Nora couldn't hear him over the swoosh of the fall, but he didn't care, and he said them anyway. Catching sight of Eshle, Willy waved with gusto until he stood near enough for Nora to hear him.
"That's Eshle. Wave!"
Nora waved.
"Eshle is Ahlia's pater. And my right-hand man." Willy was beaming, and still waving. "He hates it when I do that. He hardly lets me up here. He thinks I'm gonna fall in, but that's absurd. I might jump in, but from that spot, I could only do it once, and it would ruin the chocolate. Blah! He's a silly-dilly if he thinks I'm a silly-willy." Willy stopped waving and rocked on his heels, smirking at Nora with his walking stick held parallel to the floor and behind his back.
The energy radiating off him engulfed her for a moment. It was as if Willy had brought the power of the river over to her, and laid it at her feet. Nora struggled to find some energy of her own to send back to him. She did.
"It's beautiful."
Willy turned away, his eyes becoming as soft as his voice, everything about him relaxing, as he surveyed his confectionary masterpiece from this lofty aerie.
"People say that."
Losing the twin spotlights of those eyes focused on her helped, and Nora spent a minute or two collecting her thoughts.
"Can we go down? Can we walk in it?"
"Did ya pick yer spot?"
It was a simple question but Willy made it sound like they were sharing an inside joke.
"My spot?"
"Fer yer house."
Charlie had said this, and Willy had taken her here, but seeing the reality, Nora dared not believe Willy meant it. Was he mad?
"Are you seriously telling me you're planning on putting OUR house in this gorgeous room?"
The tone threw him.
"Nnoottttt wwithoutttt—"
Flustered, Willy stopped the stammer of incredulity and stepped back. It was paren phrasing that did it, catching him off guard. When had he let that down? He rolled his walking stick in his hands like an out of control, snapped up way too fast window shade. She'd said the room was beautiful, you'd think she'd like it! Fighting to maintain his composure, Willy studied his feet. Weakness before parens was anathema. Maybe she did like it. The question held a nice description and her underlying implication was okay, too. He risked a glance. She looked as confused as he felt. Did she not believe Charlie? Not believe him? That was outrageous! Willy flipped his walking stick back to his side and turned to face her.
"Seriously. I'm seriously saying, I'm seriously planning, on seriously putting your house, in this seriously gorgeous room. Your word. Is that being serious enough? Are we not on the same page? This is the Chocolate Room and this is where your house is going. Didn't Charlie show you?"
"Show me?"
Tight-lipped, Willy threw back his head and looked into space, biting back something on his tongue until something in his brain bit back at him harder.
"Oh yeah. Charlie said he didn't show you guys, and I have it."
Like parting clouds revealing blue sky after a cold front has moved through, Willy's earlier sanguine expression popped back. His hand went to his coat, where he dug around in an inner pocket.
"Nope. Yup. See."
Nora unrolled the page Willy handed her, seeing it for the first time. It was a drawing of the Chocolate Room Charlie had done, their house nestled snugly in the middle ground, tucked away among the hills and plants. She looked up at Willy.
"You carry this with you?"
"Yup. Nope. Sometimes. Today."
Succinct as they were, a different expression and inflection had accompanied each word, and Nora smiled to herself as she looked back at the drawing. The room didn't look the same. Moving back to the low wall, she held the drawing at arm's length in front of her, comparing the views.
Curious, Willy moved closer, studying it over her shoulder.
"Heh. That's the stripped down version I did for the first tour. I hadn't spruced it back up yet when Charlie had his tour. He drew it like it was."
Nora looked from Willy, to the drawing, to the room, to Willy again, back to the drawing, and then back to the room. Spruce it up he had. She saw a room before her filled with Spring flowers, and a Summer garden's bounty. The drawing she held in her hand showed a Fall garden's picked-over harvest.
It was still amazing.
The point of view differed as well. Charlie had drawn his picture looking at the chocolate fall from the other side of the cavernous room, but if this drawing was the plan, the site for their house was a foregone conclusion. It was about the spot across from them, near the tall, arching bridge and the river's edge, and as Nora now realized, Oompa-Loompas were already clearing the area. All at once, Nora lowered her arm like a falling sequoia and burst out laughing.
Willy instantly took three paces backward, managing to salvage a shred or two of aplomb in the process.
"No, no, you're safe, I don't mind— the spot Charlie picked is fine with me." Nora rolled up the drawing and hugged it to her bosom. "It's all fine. I suppose you knew I'd go along, but thanks for pretending it wasn't already done. Does Charlie know he picked it? I doubt it. I'd know. Are you always this literal, or do you just agree with his choice? I love gardens! I love them, love them, love them—"
Overcome, Nora squeezed her eyes tight shut, and would have spun around, but she was afraid she'd fall off the edge. She snapped her eyes open, standing on tippy-toes for a second, spreading her arms low, like a ballerina.
Genially puzzled, rhetorical questions ricocheting around him, an otherwise amused Willy Wonka looked like he could use an explanation.
"I thought I was going to live in a factory." Nora's eyes danced. "A nice factory, mind you, but I'm not!" Her joy was alive. She'd have danced over to Willy and hugged him if he were anyone else, but reading her mind, he'd taken yet another step back. Thinking of her lucky mother, Nora smiled anyway, and made do by hugging herself.
"It's better than that. Fifty times better!" She made a little flourish when she caught Willy's acknowledging smile. "I'm going to live in a garden! A GARDEN!" Her glittering eyes shone to match anything Willy could dish out. "I can't believe it, and I couldn't be happier."
Sabotage Within Wonka Factory. Could any headline be more satisfying? Dr. Wonka studied it coldly from across the room, even as he lowered the phone to its cradle. Did these minions not want to relive that glory? They could do it with his help— but so far, no takers. That fool Ficklegruber had turned him down. Turned him down. Like the others. He scarce believed it. With his face twisted in disgust, Dr. Wonka mockingly parroted the words he'd lately listened to.
'I'm sorry. I can't help you. I'm sorry. I can't help you.' That's all the man had said, over and over. It was enough to make you spit.
Willy had smiled until he'd heard the last. It wasn't a garden. It was the Chocolate Room, not the Garden Room. Did the paren not think he knew how to name things? The candy in it was window-dressing for what was most important— his Factory's life blood— the chocolate. Whenever he looked at this room, what he saw first, last, and always, was the fall and the river. It was a revelation to him that wasn't what these other people counted important. They focused on the frippery.
Willy forgot Nora and considered the room. Calling it frippery was too harsh. He changed it all the time, and he loved doing it, but he'd never given it much thought. He supposed it was a garden of sorts, and he'd never not do it— the way he'd never not breathe. It was at his core, like the beating of his heart, but why that was so was like a spot before his eyes— nebulous and untouchable.
It didn't come from Thea. Thea loved gardens as much as the next person, if the next person liked gardens, but she never had the time for them. Neither had he, till after he'd found the Oompa-Loompas. Come to think of it, he'd been in full retreat when he found the Oompa-Loompas, and in full retreat his locale of choice had been the biggest, lushest, deepest garden he could find. Because what, after all, was a jungle?— if not a huge, overgrown, garden?
After that, the idea of gardens took off, and Willy wondered how he'd lived without them. They felt so right. He had hundreds of them, all over the Factory. They fed the Factory, and the candy. Because what, after all, was candy, without fruit and spices to flavor it? He had orchards, and berry patches, and spice plants galore.
Trying to put his finger on it, he drifted. The colors swam before him, and Willy felt a breeze on his cheek, warm and caressing. He heard a lilting, feminine voice and smelled the heavy scent of rich, dark earth. It was somewhere, long ago and all but forgotten, but not. A soft touch, a loving look, doting attention, showing small hands—his—how to turn over the soil, how to set the tender plants. And then the warmth coalesced into a cold Fall night, and the sight of his father, stooping in a shaft of moonlight. In his velvet coat, and warm Factory, next to a dark river of steamy, melted chocolate, Willy Wonka shivered.
I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in any of its many forms, and there is no copyright infringement intended. Thanks for reading, please review, and I hope you enjoyed this.
dionne dance: You're probably thinking you're having flashbacks as often as I thank you, but this is no flashback— Thank you! Ifwecansparkle: Always happy to brighten your day, as your review certainly brightens mine. LinkWonka88: Thanks for joining the party; I'm glad you're enjoying the story.
The human condition being what it is, there's a certain amount of 'inevitable discovery' involved in writing, but I would like to acknowledge two writers who pointed the way in snippets of this chapter. The first is James Thurber, for pointing out what you can see but not touch in his book 'The Thirteen Clocks', and the second is xAndarielx, for making the point about how important fruit is to candy making in her story 'Insuring the Future'.
